It takes a few minutes of asking around, but Arya eventually makes her way to the solar. It's not a particularly lavish room, the only luxuries being wine and fresh fruit on the table. A huge fireplace is the room's most notable feature. While not roaring, the flames fill the room with heat, the smoke leaving through a chimney.
Melisandre sits on a chair, gazing intently into the fire. The flames illuminate her features, making her look incredibly beautiful. A wave of lust washed over Arya as she walked in, a sudden need to shed her clothing, but she shook the thought off.
"Punctual as always," Melisandre greeted, standing up. "How was your training, my dear?"
"Went well," Arya replied, walking closer to the fire. "So, what are we doing today?"
"Today, we will attempt to interpret R'hllor messages." The red woman gestured towards an open chair close to the fire. Arya sat down, looking into the fire.
"So, what am I looking for?" Arya asked, trying to make sense out of something.
"We never know," Melisandre replied, sitting down. "The world is how R'hllor wills it, and every twitch of the flame is his doing. The longer you study how each tendril of heat moves, how they dance, the clearer the image becomes. Sometimes it takes days to decipher a message, sometimes minutes."
"Is he always right? I mean, do his predictions always come true?"
"R'hllor is not mortal, my princess," Melisandre responded, her eyes locked on the fire. "He does not make mistakes. The only mistakes are made by those interpreting his signs. That is why we train, so when he talks to us, we can listen."
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